Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/161

 But in dark corners of her palace stood Uncertain shapes, and unawares On white-eyed phantasms weeping tears of blood, And horrible nightmares,

And hollow shades enclosing hearts of flame, And, with dim fretted foreheads all, On corpses three-months-old at noon she came, That stood against the wall.

A spot of dull stagnation, without light Or power of movement, seem'd my soul, Mid onward-sloping motions infinite Making for one sure goal.

A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand; Left on the shore; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white.